The lonely hammock
The photo was taken a couple of months ago at Balay Indang. I took the photo because I have a thing about hammocks. Or, at least, I used to. Years ago, long before I met Speedy and I was living in the city with my parents and brother, I bought a hammock thinking it would be swell to read a book under a tree. I don’t know what I associated the idea with, I did not grow up in the province where things like these are nothing extraordinary. It just seemed so rustic and tranquil and, for a girl who grew up in the city, almost surreal. To my dismay, the droppings of the insects living on the tree kept falling on me. And they’d buzz around me and I had to shoo them all the time. To my even greater dismay, at the height of summer when there was hardly any breeze and the humidity made my skin feel sticky, I had to take an electric fan from the house and use a very long extension cord to plug it in because, otherwise, there would be nothing relaxing about lolling on a hammock under a tree. So much for my illusions.